The Five Poison Beast lay still.
Wang Xian's breath came in slow, shallow draws, his body slick with sweat, his HP hanging just above redline. The final poison had nearly taken him out, but he'd held on.
He stepped forward and watched as the body shimmered with digital light—then burst apart, scattering loot across the floor in glowing fragments.
Loot dropped:
[Scorpion Tail Sword](Green – Uncommon)One-Handed Sword
+35 Physical Attack
+3 Strength
Passive Effect: Poison Damage – 5/s for 10 seconds
Level Requirement: 10
[Centipede Carapace](White – Common)Armor – Body
+15 Physical Defense
Level Requirement: 5
[Five Poison Pearl](Special Item)
Grants passive resistance to poison damage: –10/s
Activates from inventory.
Hidden Effect: Absorbs poison to grow stronger over time.
24 Silver Coins
Wang Xian's eyes lit up.
A green weapon and a rare utility item?
It wasn't just luck. This was the first boss kill on a digitized Blue Star. It came with bonuses—extra drops, rare items, and a chance to get things that normally wouldn't even appear at this level.
The Five Poison Pearl was the true jackpot.
Most people would've dismissed it—its basic effect seemed weak. But in his previous life, someone had leaked its hidden evolution mechanic. The more poison it absorbed, the stronger its resistance became. Later, it became vital in surviving epic dungeons—and its price had skyrocketed.
Ten thousand Five Poison Beasts might not drop one… and I just got it on my first shot.
Wang Xian dropped it into his inventory, where it immediately activated its passive effect.
Everyone now had a basic backpack—10 slots. Stackable items like potions and materials could be grouped, but equipment and special items each took their own space.
Backpack expansions need "Sumeishi"… but that's later. Market systems haven't even unlocked yet.
He checked the sword again. Scorpion Tail Sword was a solid early-game weapon, but with a level requirement of 10, it was little more than decoration for now. Still, holding it gave him a surge of anticipation.
The armor, Centipede Carapace, was ugly—but practical. He equipped it and immediately toggled it to hidden. Appearance be damned.
Stats are stats.
The corpse had some harvestable materials, but without a gathering skill, he couldn't touch them.
After one last check, Wang Xian turned and left the farm.
As he unlocked the iron gate, a familiar voice rang out behind him.
"Uncle Donkey!"
A group of village youths waved from the road.
Wang Xian smiled, half in amusement, half in exasperation. That nickname had followed him since childhood—all because of the donkey he raised. When classmates once came looking for him, they found only the donkey, and someone joked, "There's Wang Xian."
The joke stuck. Now, even as an adult, they called him Uncle Donkey.
Some things never change.
The boys were excited, eyes wide with awe and confusion. They'd seen the world announcement. "Xian Wang" wasn't just a name anymore—it was a flag, a signal that someone had done the impossible.
And they suspected the truth.
Wang Xian raised a hand and spoke before they could ask.
"There are still monsters in the farm—level 0s, mostly. A few rats might be level 2. Go ahead, level up. Just don't destroy anything, and don't waste your time fighting once you're too high-level to earn experience."
They nodded in unison.
"Thanks, Uncle Donkey!"
"Uncle Donkey, we'll be careful!"
"Uncle Donkey, we're going in!"
He watched them run, their laughter echoing down the road. They didn't ask if he was Xian Wang—they didn't need to. They knew.
Good kids. Hope they survive long enough to grow strong.
At home, Wang Xian immediately started packing. He dug through storage, ignoring his parents' puzzled expressions, and began filling a large backpack with high-energy food, compressed biscuits, and dry rations.
His father, watching silently, finally asked:
"...You running away?"
Wang Xian froze.
Then he laughed softly. "So you guessed it too?"
His father snorted. "I might not be clever, but I'm not blind. You've been preparing this whole time, haven't you? Selling the city house, moving back, setting up that strange farm…"
Wang Xian looked at him.
"Yeah. I knew something was coming."
His mother looked like she wanted to cry.
"Son, is it that serious?"
"It is."
Wang Xian walked to the bedroom, pulled a sealed envelope from beneath the mattress, and handed it to his father.
"If anyone comes looking for me—government, military, anyone—give them this. You don't need to lie. Just tell the truth."
His father nodded solemnly.
"If they ask when I'll be back, say this: three months, max. I'll find them before they find me."
His mother wiped her eyes.
"Be careful, son."
He embraced both of them tightly. The silence between them said what words couldn't.
Then he stepped outside, climbed onto his electric trike, and rode off.
He didn't look back.
He couldn't afford to.
They'll come. Once they trace the patterns—the resignation, the move, the timing—they'll know I prepared ahead of time.
And they'll want answers.
He wasn't worried about jail. He was worried about time. Once the machine took notice, they'd put him under surveillance, restrict his movements, maybe even detain him for "national interest."
That would cost him weeks—maybe months.
And in this world, months are death.
There were too many opportunities waiting. Hidden quests, secret events, evolving items, dungeon first clears—timed content that no one even knew about yet.
He had no time to waste.
Wang Xian's eyes narrowed as the wind blew against his face.
The digital age had begun, and he had no intention of letting it leave him behind.